


suffer a sea-change (into something rich and strange)

by elebuu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: #EmetLives, 2nd Person, 5.0 ending subversion, Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi, different from my usual writing style kind of, i wrote this by accident on twitter, speculative-ish, there's some quoted text from canon tossed in, titled from shakespeare for maximum memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elebuu/pseuds/elebuu
Summary: Poised for a final battle, you sense something that was still missing.That's when it hits you--it does not have to end this way.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Reader, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	suffer a sea-change (into something rich and strange)

_ Hurry. Hurry. There's almost no time left. He is drowning. He is drowning. If you go a little faster, now... you might-- _

But it's too late.

No matter how hard you fight, it's too late. He drowns, and you stand there watching, Mothercrystal's hand over your mouth as you scream and reject this fate for him.

He's drowning. He's dying a thousand, thousand more of your deaths, but he's Darkness, and everyone beholden to Light knows that Darkness must be eradicated. It must be destroyed. He looks at you with eyes that are pretending to hate.

Both of you know it isn't so, but your hands are broken at the bones of your fingers trying to reach each other. It isn't allowed. You are "broken"; he is "evil".

He's on his dying gasp and still, still the Light won't let you decide for yourself. Evil is destined to be executed when Light is the only true goodness in the world, is it not?

You beg. 

Fate and Light have made sure your mouth is full of holy bile, and you cannot speak. You cannot remember, and now, you cannot even speak. If you should weep now, all that comes out is blessed, heroic Light. The darkness is dying in front of you, and you are not allowed to nurse its wounds.

That's what they are now, isn't it? " _ It _ "s. This world isn't big enough for two polarities, is it? It's only murder if it's Your Kind, isn't it?

Only.  _ With a soul like that, perhaps there is another way. One which does not require bloodshed _ .

You have eaten more than your soul can hold. It can do one of two things: it can rupture; or, it can grow. Forbidden knowledge leaks into your skull, and you half-remember. Brothers, sisters, friends, and lovers. All worth burying; all worth killing.  _ Heed not the Dark minion's words. _

Why? The price of death is death. Somewhere in between lies the truth. Neither he nor you can see it. Not so long as the oldest idols decree.

So, what if what you vomit up isn't merely curses, but also vows; vows you were not there to sign? Acrid spittle leaves your lips. Tears of tiredness leave your milky, failing eyes. This needn't be the way.

You dig into the wet irony of your being, and you pull it out. A crystal of Light. It was there before you knew what the blurry dreams were. You brought it forth. It was claimed by another.  _ Go, and eradicate the Darkness.  _ It bleeds from between your teeth. Light.

His true face is revealed to you. It is too late.

...Is it? You know that love is neither Light nor Dark. A fraction of yourself lived and died to warn you of just this so. 

_ 'It is what you choose to do with it.' _

You look at the writhing creature of Darkness who has become your enemy--and see a person. You see yourself. You see your warning. Your liquid is drying on the crystal you hold in your hand, and you hold it aloft.

_ 'If you could summon the strength to take another step--would you?' _

You have the passion to answer Yes with just your eyes. Your other soul sees the power in your hand, dripping with ichor; with life. Your other soul smiles. You stumble, the Light crushing your lungs as you take that one last step. Your bloodied fist crushes the crystal at last.

You were the one who made it. It's up to you what happens to it.

The Dark one's sigil flickers, afraid. He looks for a moment about to plead with you, as did his brother who you are keenly aware was slain by your hand; by your Light. 

_ Heed not the Dark minion's words. _

_ Go forth and destroy all the Darkness. _

The crystal cuts into your palm. There was a time, you think, where that was true; that Darkness needed stopping; needed staunching. And it is not now. It may not be, ever again, not so long as your strength grows into absurdity.  _ Wouldst thou become a god?  _ It isn't that simple. 

Crystal dust eats his tears.

The old gods are dead. 

Long live the gods. 

You created this crystal. It is yours to decide what to do with. "It's our story," you gasp at him, "Our future. OUR future," you exhale, and maybe it is your last. Oblivion snakes toward you; it all but takes you.

And then there is a hand that laces through yours. And a hand that laces through your other. Your other soul's smile widens. 'You're mad', they say; 'You're mad, and I think you know what you're doing.' 

That soul adjoins you, and what's left is the sound of the detonated crystal, and the damp vulnerability of gloved fingers that cling to yours. "You are Hades," you murmur, as your liver and your heart leave your teeth. 

"He who shall awaken."

Light bleaches his darkened golden eyes. Darkness floods your own as white and holy tears exude them.

~

There's a fluid space between your deaths. It's amniotic. It's mortuary.

It's where you're inter-latticed, a filigree of opposites; a terminus; a nexus; a genesis. 

_ "Even if I told you, you wouldn't remember. _

_ So remember us. Don't forget. Remember that we--" _

You silence him with the lips that wouldn't admit anything before now. Of course you'll remember. Eventually. One can learn and re-learn; collect, and re-collect. Call, and re-call.

So you call him by his name.

And he recalls you by yours.

_ "Remember that we once lived." _

It's true. You won't live again as once you did. Since when was change so evil? Even deeply? So you nod. Not out of docility; out of the respect that knowledge between two alien kinds of personhood can oft be betrayed by the outer limits of language.

The heart of darkness and the heart of light are only a painter's discretion apart. Barely Angstroms apart.

You melt into the undying ivory of one another.

It is time to tell the world. It is time to tell them that it was a song, back then; and you look among your many friends, and you know that no one has forgotten how to sing. It's time to answer together. It's as good a time to swim as to drown. So you swim. From hadal bottom to sunny top, this time, dissent is not the end. Death is not the end.

There's tomorrow. And tomorrow.

And yesterday.

You scrub away his title.

He wipes away yours. The surface of the tempest is a challenge unto itself. Wonderfully, neither you nor the nameless person alive beside you have made a decision that leaves you standing--or swimming--alone.

The old world is dead.

Long live the world.

**Author's Note:**

> i legitimately wrote this by accident in the midst of shitposting on twitter, which is probably apparent in this thing's disjointedness. anyway thank u for reading........


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